


Half Doomed & Semi-sweet

by Scarlet_Cross



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Bipolar Disorder, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Style, lol this was actually a school assignment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 09:05:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8618182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet_Cross/pseuds/Scarlet_Cross
Summary: Long ago in the Falling Kingdom there lived an enchanter named Peter and his three friends. The four Young Bloods were brave adventures and soldiers until the day the enchanter summoned Spirits he could not control.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooooo I wrote this piece last year as an assignment for my English class and I was going through my files and found it again and I was like, "Eh, why not publish it."

Once upon a time there lived a young enchanter named Peter. Peter lived in the Falling Kingdom with his three friends, Andrew, Joseph, and Patrick. They were inseparable, the boys wreaked havoc among their small township, so much so the villagers took to calling the little devils the Young Bloods.

All four of them played wild games, made even more fun with Peter’s magic. In childhood they had battled a windmill named Dragon with sticks and rocks. Peter used his magic to call great winds that would make the great blades of the mill turn. He would set fire to tufts of grass as if a great dragon had done it. And he would call to the water of nearby rivers to quench the ground.

The four grew from children and playmates to men and brothers in arms. Now they fought for their King with swords and spears. Just like when they were young, Peter’s magic was key to winning a battle. A gust of wind to knock enemy arrows off course, fire to separate battle lines, and a great tidal wave the crush oncoming ships. Until one day Peter made a grave mistake. The four were backed into a corner; desperate for more power, Peter summoned the Seven Spirits of Feal.

The Spirits descend immediately upon Peter, who was too weak to hold them properly. The four Young Bloods fought them off. But Peter, drained from the summoning slipped and the Spirit of Despair and the Spirit of Ecstasy touched his mind. The other three came immediately to his aid and finished the banishing for him but the damage was done. The spirits had left their thrall on Peter.

The two spirits left their mark on Peter and tormented his mind. He writhed in pain as the two conflicting Spirits battled for dominance over his consciousness. He was allowed discharge from the King’s army because he was no longer fit for battle. Peter went back to his village to wait out the war for his friend’s return. 

After many months battling the Spirits alone in this mind the village church bells tolled loud throughout the town, announcing the warrior’s return. Peter rushed from his home to greet the homecoming soldiers and wept for joy when he saw the faces of all three friends. They too were excited to see he was still sane and they vowed to help him find a cure.

They traveled for many months looking for anyone who could help. The Young Bloods traveled to all four corners of kingdom. They searched from the smallest townships like their own to the large cities of the warm Southern coasts. In the capital city of Chicago they met an old man with glasses that obscured his eyes with a purple tint.

“Seek out the witch who lives in the forest of ashley trees.” He instructed them.

They searched the forest for many days before they stumbled upon a witch sleeping under a great ashley tree. She had a round face and hair like red leaves of the tree she slept under. They woke her with great caution and explained their problem to her.

“I will help your cause,” the witch said, “but only if you, Peter, promise to marry me in return.”

Peter agreed but with a great deal of reluctance. The witch was satisfied with his promise and went about making him a potion. She gathered up all her ingredients in a great, golden cauldron over a fire made with the wood of ashley trees. She spent all night brewing the potion; she stirred it constantly and whispered soft chants too low for any for the men to make sense of.

The witch woke Peter with the rising sun and offered him a small flask of the potion. Peter downed it immediately. He was enveloped into a great coughing fit loud enough to wake his friends. When the fit subsided Peter lay on his back staring up through the canopy of leaves. The usually ever present sirens of the Spirits were reduced to a low murmur. Peter sprang to his feet and grabbed the witch in a tight embrace, whispering thankyous into her ear over and over. 

The witch only wrapped her arms around him in return as a sly smirk painted her face. A face only Patrick would see.   

From that point on Patrick became wary of the witch. He watched as the days passed and they came closer to the wedding date of the two. He grew concerned about what such a wild creature would do to his friend. Patrick spent many long hours trying to talk his friend out of the arrangement but Peter refused. What good was his word if he broke it? 

Unable to convince Peter, Patrick killed the witch before she could marry his friend.

When Peter found his bride to be dead by Patrick’s hands he felt a moment of sorrow. This woman, who had never wronged him, was now mangled on the forest floor. Peter allowed Patrick to explain himself, before he lashed out with his magic. Patrick fell to his knees and explained between sobs the wicked nature of the witch and his fear of their marriage.

Peter helped his oldest friend back to his feet and wiped the tears from his face. All was forgiven.

For a time everything was back to normal for the four friends. They went back to their childhood home and lived like normal men. But all too soon Peter began to realized the witch’s potion was wearing off. He was back to fighting the Spirit’s touch, their screaming voices in his head threatening to rip him in two.

Seeing no hope for another cure, Peter disappeared into the forest to die, for death was preferable to this torment. He found a hollow among the tree lay alone in the forest. Night was beginning to fall when he heard the soft cries of a baby. 

Roused from his sleep, Peter stood and went in search of the child. He trekked through the forest, now in an ethereal state of stillness with the night sky hanging over it. He found the child wrapped in the arms of a beautiful, young  woman.

“What are you doing in my grove?” She asked eyes full of fear at this intruder.

“I am sorry,” He stared. “I was only looking for a place to die.”

The woman was shocked at his comment and offered him a spot next to her. The two sat for hours talking, the low mythodic voices lulling the baby to sleep in its mother’s arms.

When the sun rose lazily over the horizon in the morning the child woke. It let out letting out a shrill cry when the first rays of dawn brushed its skin. The mother rocked it gently in her arms and bounced the child on her knee but the baby would not quiet no matter what the mother did.

By midday the woman was exhausted, she had not slept the night before because she had been talking with Peter and now with the fussing baby she could not sleep. Peter offered to hold the child so as the mother could rest. As soon as Peter touched the baby it quieted. 

He stared in the infant’s round eyes and felt a sense of calmness he had not known since the Spirit’s touch. He whispered sweet words into the child’s ear and bounced the baby on his lap, eliciting a high pitched giggle from the child.

When the mother woke from her rest Peter offered her and her child a place in his home. He could not think of a life without them now. The child brought him joy had had never know and with the woman he felt the warm  glow of love. She accepted with a coy smile and the three of them walked out of the forest together.

The years passed and Peter watched the child grow into a boy then a man. He watched the child’s mother become his wife and the two of them grow older just as their child did. And through all of the years Peter never again felt the Spirits’ touch.


End file.
